


Dreams

by Dazzlious



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 02:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9155527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzlious/pseuds/Dazzlious
Summary: Sometimes dreams aren’t just dreams.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from JK Rowling’s fantastic books or films, I’m just borrowing and playing with them for a little while and get no monetary reward for doing so. 
> 
> A/N: I had been thinking about this pairing for quite a while and had been considering writing something about them as there didn’t seem to be anything out there. However, I came across this fabulous story called Captive at Number 12 by CeliaEquus, which pretty much covered everything I had intended to write about them. There seemed to be no point in repeating the story and so, instead, my mind conjured this little meeting between the couple. As is so often the case with my stories, I was torn between which route it should take. What won out is the story that follows. Enjoy. Dx

 

Hermione jerked awake, her heart pounding, a thin sheen of sweat covering her body caused by the nightmare she had just experienced. She fought off the bondage of the covers in which she had become entangled and a loud breath escaped her throat as she sat up and looked around her at the room, dim and gloomy in the early morning light. Having established that she was at home in her bedroom and was alone, as she always was, she lay back down, her hands wiping at her face, removing the moisture as well as the sleep in her eyes. She wouldn’t get back to sleep now, she never did.

Every night since their disastrous attempt to escape from the Ministry of Magic which had left Ron splinched and in agony and the three of them without a safe place to call home, Hermione had experienced the nightmare. Throughout their time in the tent, during their short but scary stint at Malfoy Manor, and even now after the battle that had ended Voldemort’s reign, back home with her parents, her nights were punctuated by the dream; always the same one, always lasting the exact same amount of time before she awoke, clammy and stressed by what had occurred within her sleeping mind. The only way she had been able to combat it was with Dreamless Sleep potion, but she couldn’t keep taking that forever. It was highly addictive and wasn’t that easy to come by, especially when she was staying in the Muggle world with her parents.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Hermione stood in the lift trying not to feel self-conscious. Although it was almost two years since the final battle had taken place at Hogwarts, it seemed that amongst certain folk she was a still a bit of a celebrity after the _Daily Prophet_ had insisted on running a series of articles on Harry and the friends who had helped him to gain victory over Voldemort; wherever she went, people still looked at and recognised her. There were a couple in this lift who were studying her more intently than she felt entirely comfortable with.

As the doors slid closed she looked at the numbers over them, willing the arrow to move quickly. It was sod’s law that she had to go right to the top floor for her interview, which meant she was potentially going to have to suffer the looks for another ten floors yet. She looked away from the arrow but instantly caught the eye of a middle-aged, dark-haired woman in a blue robe who was quite blatantly staring at her. Embarrassed, Hermione had to look away.

She knew from experience that being the subject of the _Daily Prophet_ ’s focus wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Back in her fourth year at school, during the Triwizard Tournament, when Harry had been one of the Hogwarts champions, the _Prophet_ — or more accurately their then head writer, the vitriolic and acidic Rita Skeeter — had published several inaccurate and somewhat incendiary articles about Hermione which had caused her to receive everything from mean letters and Howlers right through to death threats and curses.

When the latest article focussing on her appeared, Hermione had read through it with some trepidation wondering whether the old lies would be dredged up. Although she was relieved to discover they hadn’t recycled the stories of her supposed relationship with Harry — which had been a downright lie — or her dalliance with Viktor Krum, the star Seeker from the Bulgarian Quidditch team who had been the Durmstrang Triwizard champion — which had been true but incorrectly reported upon — it had exposed rather more about her than she wanted to share with the world.

That included several photographs, one of which was of her in a bikini from when she was about fourteen years old; she had no idea how they had even managed to get hold of it, as she was sure her parents wouldn’t have willingly handed it over. It was only a small picture and, being of Muggle stock, unmoving, and maybe to most people not really noticeable compared with the much larger image which had come from the Triwizard Tournament Yule Ball, but it had shown her burgeoning breasts and the other curves she had acquired around that time in far too much detail for her to feel happy about it being published.     

The door opened and more people entered the lift. Hermione was sure it had to be at capacity. She was pressed against the back of the lift now, stuck next to a rather rotund man with a bald head whose personal hygiene seemed questionable. She moved her head to the side a little to try to get away from his personal space and the B.O. he was exuding. She prayed he would get out soon before the stench became too overwhelming and she started to retch. The door opened again and half the carriage got out. The heavyset man moved away from her a little and Hermione breathed a silent sigh of relief. But that froze on her lips as she saw the person who had just entered the lift.

Panic welled in Hermione’s chest, the urge to scream or run or both almost overwhelming her. But the doors had shut again and the lift was moving and Hermione couldn’t escape. She could feel herself trembling and closed her eyes, trying to control her feelings. She could get through this. She just had to relax and not draw attention to herself. She glanced at her watch. She didn’t have enough time to get out and walk the seven floors she had left, and if she did that she would have to go past him and then he would see her and she didn’t want to take the chance he would follow her into a deserted stairwell. If she stayed exactly where she was and he didn’t turn round he would never know she was there and would hopefully leave the lift within the next few floors.

Re-opening her eyes as the door opened once more, she watched as the overweight man and the woman who had been staring so avidly at her left. No one got in. She willed the lift to start again quickly. Only six floors to go and she would be safe. She tried to tell herself she was being stupid, that she was panicking over nothing and would be better off preparing herself mentally for the interview that was shortly to follow, but it didn’t work.

She could feel herself shaking slightly. Another floor and two more people got out, although sadly not the person she so desperately wanted to see leave. A very tall, dark-skinned woman in a bright canary yellow robe and matching pointed hat got in. Hermione stared at her clothes for a moment, astonished at the brightness, but even that didn’t take her mind off her predicament.

Perhaps she was simply over-reacting. It was entirely possible that she had been so worried about running into him that she had imagined it was him getting into the lift when in fact it was only someone else who vaguely resembled him and her mind had gone into overdrive. After all, she wasn’t even sure whether he still worked at the Ministry of Magic. Trying to run with that idea, she actually managed to relax for a moment, but when the lift doors opened again her calm was shattered once more and her terror increased a hundred-fold.

The woman in yellow and everyone but one person was leaving the lift, and this time no one was waiting to get in. As one of the others left he spoke to the remaining passenger, calling him by name, and Hermione’s stomach dropped through the floor because she knew for certain she was now stuck alone in the lift with the Death Eater who had filled her dreams for over two years. She debated trying to get out, but the door was already closing. Now there was no way he wouldn’t see her if he happened to look round, and being in an almost empty lift it was quite possible that would happen.

She was shaking badly now, praying the door would open and Yaxley would get out or that at least others would get in so it wasn’t just the two of them alone. Not wanting to look at the man in case he felt her staring at him and turned to see who was looking, she instead glanced around the now empty lift, finally able to see the decor properly.

Immediately, she raised a quivering hand to her mouth, desperately trying to stop the scream that was rising in her throat, her fear more palpable than ever as she recognised the interior of the now empty lift as the setting for her nightmare. The lift stopped and Hermione prayed that Yaxley would leave when the door opened, that he would exit the lift without spotting she was there, but now she knew they were here together in the place she had dreamed of for so long she didn’t really believe he would. Instead, the doors would close again and he would turn and see her, and then. . . .

The doors didn’t open. A moment later the lift began to move again, but jerkily, as if having a problem. Then, with a creak of gears, it stopped with a shudder and Hermione understood with a sinking heart and rising gorge that she and Yaxley were trapped in the lift between floors. Truly terrified now, she could feel her heart hammering in her chest, light-headedness causing her breathing to became louder and more thready as the Death Eater slowly turned to look at her.

Yaxley’s heart was beating harder than he had ever known it. It had started when he walked into the lift and saw Hermione Granger pressed against the back wall, pinned there by the number of people in the lift. For a moment he hadn’t quite believed it was her, but as the lift had gradually emptied he began to sense her panic and knew she had spotted him, too.

For a moment he had debated leaving the lift at the next floor although it wasn’t the one he wanted, purely to ease the tension that was building palpably as the lift continued its inexorable journey; but he decided against it. He was certain now that the dream he had been having every night since he had failed to keep hold of Hermione the last time she had been here at the Ministry of Magic was actually a premonition of this moment.

He had recognised the lift interior in his dream, having travelled in it so many times over the years, but he had always assumed his mind had conjured the dream from a sense of longing, not as a prelude to his future life. To discover that what he had been dreaming about could possibly become a reality had his mind racing and his heart pumping hard, the blood flowing through his veins singing with anticipation.

There had been something between him and Hermione. He had felt it as he grabbed hold of her, determined to stop her and her friends from escaping from the Ministry of Magic. For that fraction of a minute when he had held her tight, being pulled with them to 12 Grimmauld Place as he had discovered it was, he could feel _something_. He had no idea what it was but it was strong and made him tingle with desire for the beautiful young woman and, shockingly, had made him not even care that she was a Mudblood.

But then she had cast the jinx that made him release her and she was gone, and he was alone on the doorstep of the house, a feeling of desolation washing over him in a way he had never experienced before. It was that night after he had forced his pain-wracked body into sleep — the Dark Lord was extremely unhappy at Yaxley’s failure to contain the trio and had punished him most severely by use of the Cruciatus curse — that he had experienced the dream for the first time. And now he and Hermione were the only two people left in the lift and he could feel the events the dream foretold thundering into view. He realised he was thoroughly excited about what was about to happen.

The lift stopped but the doors didn’t open. Yaxley looked at them frowningly for a moment. Should he attempt to force them? But a moment later the lift moved on, although its movement was jerky and a loud cranking noise from the gears alerted him there was a problem. The lift shuddered to a halt, trapped between floors, and Yaxley knew at once that his moment had come. Now, before someone had a chance to mend the broken lift and release them, he had to make his dream a reality.

Turning, he looked at Hermione, his smile lighting up his face in a way so scary to her it almost made her stop breathing. For ten seconds at most he looked at her before moving in her direction, and Hermione could hear herself whimpering quietly with terror without any way to stop it. There was nowhere for her to go. Two steps and she would be trapped against the back of the lift, which was where he wanted her. Yaxley didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. For a moment Hermione’s mind drifted to her wand, tucked away in her handbag, but she was sure Yaxley’s wand was much closer to hand and he would stun or disarm her before she even had a chance to retrieve it. She closed her eyes, knowing what was going to happen next and that there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it.

With a roar Yaxley launched himself at Hermione, pulling her into his arms, his mouth finding hers in a forcefully passionate kiss as he pushed her back against the wall of the lift. For a moment she opposed him, her hands balled into fists, hitting him and trying to push him away even though he was so much stronger than she. But as his tongue captured hers, twining and caressing, her body relaxed slightly and she stopped fighting the kiss. His heart soaring at the contact and at Hermione’s slight capitulation, Yaxley pinned her to the wall with his hard body, his hands now moving, sliding down her thighs, finding and pulling up the hem of her skirt until it was no longer a barrier between them.

Hermione tried to speak as the kiss ended, attempting to plead with Yaxley to let her go, but his mouth stopped her from talking. His lips found hers once again, pressing hard to quell any chance of dissent. And now his hand was on her knickers, pulling roughly at the delicate material, ripping them away from her body and discarding them without thought on the floor as his hand sought to undo his trousers and free the hardness that was throbbing and wanted attention. For a moment Hermione was almost released from Yaxley’s grip as he was frustrated in his attempts to free himself. But before she could do more than squeal in fear he released the beast and was already pressing it against Hermione’s tight entrance, seemingly not interested in whether she was ready for him.

Another kiss, this one even deeper if that were possible, and his hands were gripping her hips tightly, pulling her onto him as he thrust. A deep rumble escaped his lips into her mouth as Hermione cried out in discomfort, her hands once again pushing at Yaxley as she tried to fight him off. Undeterred, he thrust again, feeling her snug walls open up to him as he slid deeper. The exquisite feeling of Hermione’s tightness wrapped around him caused him to break off the kiss and roar with joy. His hands moved under her bottom, pulling her up as still he thrust, passage easier now as Hermione’s traitorous body began to react sympathetically to the stimulation.

And then something within Hermione broke and the resulting flood of desire for Yaxley rose within her urgently; the sudden knowledge that this had always been meant to be, that there was something between them, something she had felt before for just that fraction of a minute when he had held onto her during their escape from the Ministry of Magic. It caused her to wrap her legs around his back as she moved against him, now participating as fully as he. She wrapped her arms around his neck, too, pulling his head forward, and their lips met, once again forceful and passionate but this time by her choice, the ferocity of it astonishing them both.

Ecstatic at Hermione’s sudden participation, Yaxley savoured every thrust, his beautiful lover becoming more liquid around him with every stroke. He knew she wouldn’t last much longer, but then neither would he, and that was exactly how it should be between them. He gave several short, hard thrusts, designed to go deep, to hit that sweet spot that would give Hermione so much pleasure and she cried out as it did so, her head resting back against the wall as she ground her pelvis against him. His breathing was heavy and gasping, hers shallow and thready as they exploded almost simultaneously. Hermione’s soft folds flooded as Yaxley emptied himself deep inside her.        

For a long time they stayed in position, Hermione with her head now against his shoulder, her breathing still rapid and matching her heartbeat. She didn’t want to let go of the man who held her so tightly in return; she needed still to feel his wonderful touch but at the same time didn’t want him to see her face, shame at her body’s betrayal and her lack of self-control already flooding her brain. Yaxley, too, had no desire to remove Hermione from his grasp. His own breathing was heavier than hers and more ragged, but the fluttering gasps she was releasing made her body rub most pleasurably against his and although his immediate need was sated he knew it ran far deeper and was loath for the moment to end.

He supposed he should feel guilty. Had he been a moral man he would never have forced himself on Hermione in such a way. Whilst she had, as he had known she would, eventually become as actively engaged as he in what they had done, there was no doubt that to begin with she had been . . . reluctant. But it wasn’t in Yaxley’s nature to feel guilt. A man of strong passions and beliefs, he had always lived with the innate Pure-blood arrogance that ensured his absolute conviction that he could do whatever he wanted, could have whatever he desired, and nothing would stop him. What had happened with Hermione was no different, and the dream he had been having for so long was his vindication: he was right to take her, regardless of her initial lack of desire. 

Hermione was still shaking when Yaxley finally released her. She still wouldn’t look at him; humiliation at what had happened between them was eating her up. It had happened exactly as her nightmares had predicted — every kiss, every thrust, even the noises they had made as they climaxed together — and she had enjoyed it more than any other sexual encounter she had ever had.

It was exactly this that terrified Hermione into wakefulness every morning and made her clammy, shaking, and tearful: the knowledge that she had enjoyed what she and Yaxley had done; that even knowing what he was and what he would have done to her and her friends had he managed to keep hold of them that day at the Ministry of Magic wasn’t enough to stop her from craving his touch; that his forcefulness excited her in a way that she had a hard time reconciling. Yaxley, like the Malfoys, was clever and had somehow managed to keep himself out of Azkaban after Voldemort’s demise, but Hermione was sure his heart was still as black as ever and knew her desire for him was untenable.  

Head still down, Hermione could see Yaxley’s hand reach down to pick up what was left of her knickers, although she had no idea what he did with them. He moved away to give her space but still hadn’t said a word to her except for one, growled out so deeply at the apex of their rutting that she wasn’t entirely sure she had heard it correctly. She straightened her skirt and cast a non-verbal cleaning charm on herself but she felt uncomfortable without the underwear, especially with the interview still to go to.

The thought of the interview was somewhat surreal after what she had just experienced but was the whole reason for her being at the Ministry of Magic in the first place and she didn’t intend to miss it — except that she was going to. She glanced at her watch. She should have been on her way into the interview room right now but instead, she was trapped in this lift. Her dreams had always finished when she was shocked awake by the intensity of their climax; she had absolutely no idea what was going to happen next.

Steeling herself to talk to Yaxley and hoping her face wasn’t scarlet with the shame she could still feel roiling around in her stomach, Hermione looked up to see him watching her keenly. She was determined to refuse to acknowledge in any way what they had just done, and she definitely didn’t want to talk about it.

‘How did you stop the lift?’ she asked, surprised to discover that her voice sounded almost normal.

Yaxley shook his head. ‘I didn’t do anything. The lift is faulty.’

Hermione’s heart began to beat faster again. She had assumed Yaxley had done something to stop the lift and would get it going again once he was finished with her. If it really was broken they could be stuck in there together for Merlin knew how long. What else would Yaxley do to her? And what if they were discovered? The humiliation she was feeling now would be as nothing compared to that she would feel if that circumstance came to pass. Looking unhappy, she moved towards the back corner of the lift, wrapping her arms around herself protectively and as a barrier against Yaxley, but he made no move to go anywhere near her.

‘The fault will have been reported by now,’ he told her, his voice as deep and gravelly as she remembered it. ‘I’m sure it won’t be long before they get it working again.’ He looked at Hermione as intently as before and added, ‘Why are you here, anyway?’

Hermione looked surprised at the question and at Yaxley’s easy manner towards her considering what had just happened between them, but felt some of the stress leave her even if the shame didn’t. She unclenched her arms.

‘I was on my way to an interview with the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, but it was supposed to start at two thirty and it’s now two forty-five, so I’ve missed it.’

Yaxley nodded interestedly. ‘But the interview was only a courtesy, surely,’ he said, his deep voice soothing as he spoke. ‘After all, your talent is prodigious and great things are expected of you, Miss Granger. I can’t imagine you having a problem getting any post at the Ministry.’

Hermione couldn’t help the warm feeling that rose inside her at Yaxley’s compliment although at the same time she felt a little disgusted with herself for being so shallow.

‘I still have to have the interview, though.’

‘I’m sure it can be rescheduled,’ Yaxley pointed out. Hermione was about to protest that she didn’t want it rescheduled when he added, ‘After all, being stranded in a lift can be quite a stressful experience for some people.’ He looked at her, a smug look crossing his face and Hermione found herself silently praying that he wouldn’t mention the sex. ‘Anyway, you don’t need to worry. You’ll get the job.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘That’s not certain.’

‘Oh, I think it is,’ Yaxley said pleasantly. ‘After all, you’re hardly likely to get turned down after a personal recommendation from the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, are you?’ He looked at Hermione’s unhappy face once more and gave a deep chuckle. ‘Oh, don’t worry, love, I’m not basing my assessment on your performance today.’ He gave her a cheeky wink. ‘I’m going by your exam results and your prodigious talent as a witch. Although. . . .’ He broke off for a moment, a smile crossing his face as he took a few seconds to think back to their earlier encounter. ‘If you ever want a job in Magical Law Enforcement I’d be more than happy to employ you.’

‘No, thank you,’ Hermione replied a little tartly. ‘I’ve never wanted to be an Auror. My interests lie in other directions.’

Yaxley shrugged easily. ‘Well, the offer is always there. Remember, there are many different facets to the department, Miss Granger, not just the Auror office, and we pride ourselves on employing the best staff in the Ministry. You would be a welcome addition.’

Hermione looked at her watch again. It was now almost three o’clock. They had been trapped for almost forty-five minutes and she was getting uncomfortable again. Whilst Yaxley had obviously decided not to risk doing anything else to her in case they were caught, they weren’t easy conversationalists for each other by any means and she could sense the talk she didn’t want to have bubbling just under the surface, ready to erupt at any moment. She just hoped that now the nightmare had played itself out for real it would no longer plague her sleep and she would finally be able to get some rest. And if truth be told, she was getting a little freaked out now at being stuck in this little box and really wanted to get out.

‘Are you all right?’ Yaxley asked with some concern.

Hermione tried to shrug it off but wasn’t sure she succeeded. ‘I’m okay, just feeling a little claustrophobic, I think.’

‘Look on the bright side: at least it didn’t break down when it was packed,’ Yaxley said. ‘That _would_ have been scary.’

Hermione thought back to being stuck next to the B.O. man and realised that it actually could have been worse. She couldn’t imagine having to be stuck next to him for over an hour, or how claustrophobic she would have felt with all those other people packed in around her. That really would have been completely unbearable — worse, she thought with some surprise, than what she had been through with Yaxley.

The gears creaked. At the sound, Hermione and Yaxley both looked anxiously up at the roof although they couldn’t see anything. A moment later the lift began to move, slowly and jerkily, but at least it was moving. A few seconds after that it shuddered to a stop again. Hermione held her breath worriedly but the door slid open and a workman in blue overalls and wearing a flat cap peered in at them.

‘Afternoon, folks,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Sorry about that, but we had a bit of problem getting it going again. Still, you’re all safe and sound now. Do you want to get out here or continue to your floor?’

‘Erm, I’m going to get out,’ Hermione said rapidly, desperate to be away from both Yaxley and the claustrophobic box she had been stuck in for the last hour. ‘I can walk the last two floors.’

‘This is my floor,’ Yaxley told the man, who moved back to let him out.

Eager to get away from the lift but not so happy about Yaxley getting out on the same floor, Hermione pushed away from the wall and followed the dour, long-haired wizard out the door. The workman got into the lift and whistling a jaunty tune he pressed a button as the door closed once again.

‘I have to go,’ Hermione said, feeling that she couldn’t really ignore Yaxley as he had stopped just outside the lift and was pretty much blocking her exit. ‘I need to go and apologise for missing my interview and see if I can rearrange it.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Yaxley told her, pleasantly if a touch forcefully.

‘Erm, no, thank you. I’ll be fine,’ Hermione replied, trying to quell the panic that had risen inside her at his offer.

She really wanted to get away from Yaxley now, wanted to pretend that nothing had happened between them. She needed to try to lock away the secret of the lift forever and she couldn’t do that while he was still with her, reminding her constantly of what had occurred between them.

‘It’s no bother,’ Yaxley insisted. He took hold of her elbow. ‘I need to have a word with Lorcan Spavin if he’s around anyway.’

Hermione had no idea who Lorcan Spavin was but she realised Yaxley wasn’t intending to let her go just yet and there was nothing she could do about it without causing a fuss and drawing attention to them. She definitely didn’t want to do that in case it raised embarrassing or difficult questions. So with a sigh, she gave in and allowed Yaxley to lead her to the door to the staircase.

Yaxley released her arm as they walked up the stairs together but he walked much closer to her than Hermione felt comfortable with. Part of her kept waiting for him to grab her again, but since they were out in public it never happened. Eventually, once they arrived on the correct floor, he indicated a door in the wall to the right and moved forward to hold it open for her.

‘The reception area for the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures,’ he intoned sombrely as she preceded him through the door.

Hermione looked around at the little waiting area she had just entered. To the left a number of empty chairs were grouped around a small coffee table containing a number of pamphlets and magazines; on the right, sitting behind a desk was a bored-looking woman in her late twenties with long, curly blonde hair who was wearing magenta robes. She appeared to be using her wand to change the colour of her nails. She looked only disinterestedly at Hermione, but her face broke into a beaming smile when she saw Yaxley.

‘Hey, Yax, what are you doing all the way up here?’

‘I’m here to see Lorcan if he’s around, Melinda. Got a bit of a tricky one and I could do with his knowledge.’

Melinda shook her head apologetically. ‘Sorry, Yax, he’s gone off somewhere with Ludo. Think it was some meeting or something. I’ll leave him a note. Unless you need an owl sending — is it urgent?’

Yaxley shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. ‘It can wait. I’ll catch up with him eventually.’ He turned to glance at Hermione. ‘Melinda, I brought Miss Granger with me as she was due to have an interview this afternoon.’

Melinda looked at Hermione again and her expression turned far less friendly. ‘Your appointment was at two thirty and it’s now—’ she looked exaggeratedly at the clock on the wall— ‘three twenty-five. You’re almost an hour late, so you’ve missed it.’

‘I was hoping I could reschedule, if another appointment is available this afternoon,’ Hermione said hopefully.

Melinda looked annoyed as she said waspishly, ‘Normally people who are going to be late or can’t make the appointment set for them have the courtesy to contact us in advance and let us know.’

Before Hermione could say anything in response Yaxley smiled at Melinda, and when he spoke his voice took on that deep, soothing tone. ‘I’m sure Miss Granger would have contacted you if she could, Melinda, but unfortunately for her, she’s just spent the last hour or so stuck in the lift as it broke down again.’ Melinda’s face relaxed a little at his explanation although her mouth was still pinched. ‘I’d be really grateful if you could make another appointment for Miss Granger as I know she’ll be a _real_ asset to your department. I’ve been trying to convince her to join me instead, but she’s adamant she wants to work for you lot.’  

Melinda glanced at Hermione again but the bulk of her concentration was still on Yaxley. He smiled at her once more and she nodded her head.

‘Okay, I’ll rearrange it. But I don’t think I can do it for today, I’m afraid. Mr Gambol has a meeting to go to after this current interview is finished.’

‘That’s not a problem,’ Yaxley cut in again before Hermione could reply. ‘I’m sure Miss Granger isn’t mentally prepared for an interview today anyway after being stuck in a claustrophobic box for that amount of time, especially as she was stuck in there with me.’ He gave Melinda a big grin and a wink. ‘She probably needs a bit of time to recover.’

Melinda turned to a large journal on her desk and using her wand she began to flick rapidly through the pages. ‘Ah, here we go. Mr Gambol has a free spot at ten o’clock on Thursday. Would that be suitable?’

Hermione nodded, hoping her face wasn’t scarlet after Yaxley’s suggestive comments to Melinda about them being stuck in the lift together. ‘Yes, thank you. I really am sorry about being held up.’

Melinda tapped the page with her wand. She looked up at Hermione and gave her a small smile. ‘Obviously, it wasn’t your fault, being trapped in the lift. They really do need to get them looked at properly — they’re a real nightmare sometimes. But at least you had Yax with you to keep you company. He’s a real sweetheart, isn’t he?’

‘Erm, yes,’ Hermione said uncomfortably, not entirely sure what to say but not wanting to be rude when Yaxley was obviously so well thought of amongst his work colleagues, or by Melinda at least.

Sensing her unease, Yaxley stepped in again. ‘I’m going to take Miss Granger home now. I’m sure she’s fine after her ordeal, but I’d hate for anything to happen to her when I could have been there to prevent it. I’ll see you later, Melinda. If you could just leave that note for Lorcan I’d be grateful.’ He gave her another wink. Clamping his hand on Hermione’s elbow once more, he turned and steered her back towards the door.

Hermione looked over her shoulder. ‘Thank you again. I’ll see you on Thursday,’ she said to Melinda, who was already refocussed on changing her nail colour. The woman gave a small dismissive wave without looking up.

‘I shall be perfectly all right to get out of the Ministry and go home on my own, Mr Yaxley,’ Hermione said politely when they were out in the corridor once more. She was keen to get away from him now. ‘I’m sure you must have plenty of work waiting and I wouldn’t want to keep you from it. Thank you for your help with arranging another appointment.’

Yaxley smiled but he didn’t release the grip on her elbow. ‘Oh, don’t you worry about me, Miss Granger.’ His voice was seductive and so deep it was almost a growl. ‘I won’t be missing anything of importance by accompanying you. Anyway, I want to make sure you’re safe.’

There was something about the way he said that last sentence combined with a smile so predatory that it made a shiver travel straight down Hermione’s spine.

‘Do you want to chance the lift, or would you prefer to walk down the stairs?’ Yaxley added, sounding somewhat amused.

Hermione thought for a moment. The lift would be quicker and would enable her to get away from Yaxley sooner, but there was the possibility it would break down again. Whilst he might not do anything to her this time she would still be stuck in that small space; if there were others in there too she might not be able to contain her fear this time. But ten floors of stairs didn’t really appeal either, especially not if Yaxley was going to dog her the whole way.

‘You really don’t need to come with me,’ she tried again. ‘I’m going to be fine, honestly.’

‘Oh, but I want to,’ Yaxley told her, his mouth close to her ear. ‘I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye to you just yet, Miss Granger.’

Hermione swallowed nervously. That didn’t sound good. When would he be ready to say goodbye? She didn’t want to end up taking him anywhere near her home. He might not openly be a Death Eater any longer, but she still didn’t want him knowing where she and her parents lived. Perhaps she could shake him off once she got outside the Ministry, especially if she chose to go shopping in Muggle London. Surely, knowing his previous hatred of Muggles, he wouldn’t want to go there with her.

‘The lift will be quicker and easier,’ Hermione said. She noticed the brief catch of anxiety in her voice as she said it.

Yaxley gave a deep chuckle. ‘Don’t worry about it breaking down again. Although it does happen quite regularly, unfortunately, it doesn’t usually happen more than once a day. I’m sure there will be no problem now they’ve fixed it. Or we could walk to a different part of the building and try another lift if you prefer.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘I think I’d rather take my chances with this one. As you say, it’s already broken down once so hopefully it won’t do so again.’

Yaxley pressed the button to call the lift and they waited in silence. Hermione wondered whether she should tell him she was going shopping. Maybe that would be enough to make him leave her alone.

‘I . . . I . . . erm, thought I might do a little shopping before I go home,’ Hermione started.

Yaxley dropped her arm as the lift door opened. The four people in the lift got out, all saying hello to him as they passed. He and Hermione got in and her heart beat faster at the idea of being alone in the lift with him again. He pushed the button for the ground floor and the doors slid closed. Hermione closed her eyes and prayed the lift wouldn’t break down again and that Yaxley wouldn’t do anything to her.

The lift stopped and Hermione’s heart clattered with panic. But the door slid open and three people entered. Yaxley moved to stand close to her again, almost too close, but at least he wasn’t touching her. Two floors later another three people entered, and then one more on the floor below that. Hermione realised they were nearly at the ground floor. Only a couple more seconds and she would be free of the lift.

She gave an audible sigh of relief as she exited the lift into the atrium. Yaxley chuckled gruffly beside her as he heard her. Taking her arm once more, he walked her across the main entrance hall and through the security area, talking briefly to the security wizards at the door and having a laugh with them before they left. Hermione had expected to exit the Ministry of Magic via the public telephone box she had used to enter as a visitor but instead, Yaxley took her out by the employee entrance. She found herself in an alleyway, not entirely sure where she was. She glanced left and right to see if she could work out what road she was on.

‘Thank you for seeing me out of the building, Mr Yaxley,’ Hermione said quickly before he had a chance to say anything. ‘I really don’t want to detain you any longer. I can assure you that I’m feeling absolutely fine and I think I might just have a wander around the shops in Muggle London before I go home.’

Yaxley didn’t say anything but he smiled. His free hand moved around Hermione’s waist and he pulled her towards him. Hermione could hear her breathing again, suddenly faster as her heart raced once more. What was he doing? She looked around quickly to see who might be watching, but the few people entering the door of the Ministry were taking no notice of the two of them.

‘Come home with me, Hermione,’ Yaxley said, his voice as deep as she had ever heard it.

Hermione’s heart fluttered at his words and desire flared inside her once again at his touch and the sound of his voice. But she couldn’t allow herself to succumb to it. She had to get away from him.

‘Let me go, please, Mr Yaxley,’ she whispered pleadingly. She looked at his face but could see immediately that he had no intention of releasing her.

‘Say yes,’ he continued, ignoring Hermione’s plea. His mouth was close to her ear, tickling it as he talked softly to her, his gravelly voice soothing and sensual. ‘I know you want me as much I want you, so say yes.’

Hermione shook her head but she couldn’t speak the words. As much as she would have liked to reject him she knew Yaxley was right. She did want him. Her body craved him and those passionate kisses that made her heart race and her body turn to liquid in his embrace.

‘Say it, Hermione.’ Yaxley’s voice was cajoling.

For a moment Hermione just looked at him, her heart pounding, blood roaring, shivers racing down her spine at his closeness.

‘Yes,’ she breathed. ‘Oh, ye—’  

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

As the kiss ended Hermione realised she was now standing in a bedroom. Yaxley had Apparated them as they kissed, his mouth capturing hers before she had even finished saying the words. As the second kiss began he scooped her up into his arms and walked across to the bed — a four-poster, of course, he was after all a typical old-school Pure-blood — and deposited her on it. He leant over her and continued with the kiss before releasing her gently. He sat down next to her on the bed and stroked her throat, working down towards the top button of her blouse. The look of desire on his face was unmistakable.

‘Mr Yaxley,’ Hermione began, intending to have another attempt at protest, mainly because she felt she should rather than because she wanted to.

‘Just Yaxley,’ he said gruffly. His lips pressed repeatedly against Hermione’s throat, small pecking kisses that tickled. ‘Everyone just calls me Yaxley.’

‘But what’s your first name?’ Hermione asked, completely diverted from her intended path by his comment. ‘You must have one.’

Yaxley stopped kissing and moved back to look at her. He smiled wolfishly. ‘Of course I do, but I don’t ever use it. No one calls me by that name; no one ever has since my mother died. My name is Yaxley, or Yax if you’d prefer. My more intimate friends tend to refer to me as that.’

‘Like Melinda?’ Hermione asked a little tartly. She wasn’t quite sure why she said it or why there was a sudden tug of jealousy that entered her mind at the memory of the couple’s easy companionship and the smiles and looks that had passed between them.

Yaxley looked amused. ‘No need to be worried about Melinda, love. She’s a friend, nothing more than that. It’s you I want, Hermione, no one else.’

‘But you won’t tell me your name,’ Hermione said unhappily.

Yaxley shook his head and gave a small laugh as he pushed her back down beneath him, his hands working on the buttons of her blouse again. ‘No, because it’s not important.’ He leant forward again and stroked Hermione’s cheek gently, his nose almost touching hers. ‘I almost can’t believe you’re really here with me. The dream never went any further than—’

‘Wait — dream? What dream?’ Hermione’s voice was a little frantic. She pushed herself up on her elbows. Yaxley sat up with her, looking at her with surprise.

‘I’ve been dreaming about you . . . about us,’ he admitted. ‘It began—’

‘—the night we escaped from the Ministry of Magic,’ Hermione cut in, her voice taut.

Yaxley nodded, looking surprised. ‘That night, once I finally managed to get to sleep I dreamt of you and me in that lift, doing the things we did today. You belonged to me completely and it felt wonderful. So much better than the pain I was in.’

‘Pain? Why were you in pain?’ Hermione asked, feeling a sudden rush of guilt. ‘You weren’t splinched as well, were you?’

Yaxley shook his head and looked worriedly at Hermione. ‘Were you splinched?’ he asked unhappily.

Hermione gave a small rapid shake of her head. ‘No, Ron was. It happened when we Apparated away from you. What happened to you?’

‘The Dark Lord,’ Yaxley said simply, his voice bleak. ‘He was rather upset that I let you go, and felt the need to show me how much.’ He broke off for a moment. ‘I was already in pain because you had gone. You had left me, and nothing he could do to me could match that feeling of loss. But the dream eased it a little. Every night I would settle down to sleep knowing you would be with me again, even if only for a short time.’

‘I’ve had the dream, too,’ Hermione admitted quietly. ‘The same one every night, and nothing I could do would stop it.’

‘There was something between us,’ Yaxley told her. ‘I felt it when I held your arm, just briefly in that moment before you cast me away. You must have felt it, too, surely?’

Hermione nodded. She was frowning. ‘I did. But I was so busy trying to get us away from the Ministry of Magic — and you — that I didn’t have time to analyse what it meant. And then I didn’t want to because we were running for our lives, running from people like you, and it seemed ridiculous that there could have been anything between us when your only interest was in turning us over to Voldemort.’ She gazed at Yaxley. ‘I have to admit I didn’t find the dreams a comfort. They’ve been nothing but a nightmare for me.’

‘No wonder you were reluctant,’ Yaxley said sympathetically.

Hermione gave a small, bitter laugh. ‘Reluctant! Is that what you call it?’ Her voice was a little wild now. ‘I’ve been have been having the same dream every night for over two years, of you raping me in that lift; although I didn’t know that was what the place was until we were alone in there earlier. Can you imagine what I felt when I realised it was actually going to happen, that it wasn’t just a dream?’

‘But it wasn’t really rape, was it?’ Yaxley asked gently. ‘I know you weren’t eager for it like I was, but I knew from the dream you would participate as fully as I did once we got going. Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it as much as I did. I know you did, Hermione.’

‘I don’t know what I would call it,’ Hermione said truthfully, her emotions more under control now although she still looked unhappy. ‘I really didn’t want you to do it, even though I knew from the dreams that I would enjoy it in the end. I can’t really categorise it in any meaningful way, except that once you were inside me I knew I wanted more, that it was always meant to be.’

‘It _was_ meant to be,’ Yaxley said adamantly. ‘I’m certain of that, too. And now I want more. Now I’ve found you again I won’t let you go this time.’

He wrapped his arms around Hermione again and pushed her down beneath him as his mouth found hers, gentle yet insistent, capturing and sucking gently on her bottom lip. His hands began to traverse her body with slow, gentle strokes, soothing and assuring; he was determined to take his time to ensure all went well between them. As much as he wanted to be inside Hermione again, he was willing to temper his needs to ensure her pleasure and he wanted to stoke her desire for him still further. Yaxley was absolutely convinced now that she was meant to be his, and he had no intention of ever releasing her.

Hermione’s hands began to move, too. She pulled at his jacket, removing it with ease before starting on the buttons of his shirt, her fingers running teasingly down his chest. She was aware of Yaxley’s hands on her blouse. A sigh of pleasure escaped his lips as her breasts were revealed to him, even though they were still encased in satin and lace. She smiled as his hands covered them and squeezed, gently at first, then harder as his fingers plucked at her stiffening nipples causing them to poke through the soft fabric. She couldn’t stop the moan that escaped so easily when his mouth dipped, his tongue wetting the material as he sucked on one of the hardened buds.

‘Beautiful,’ he whispered as he pulled the straps down her arms, moving the cups aside to gain access to her bare skin.

Hermione reached behind her to unclasp the bra and then it was gone, joining his clothes on the floor as his mouth captured first one nipple then the other. His hands stroked, squeezed, and pinched, causing Hermione to cry out as her back arched. An exciting tingling feeling ran from her stomach to that place deep inside her core. The cry became louder as one of his hands left her breast to search between her legs instead, and she opened up to him, eager to feel him inside her once again, knowing his desire was as high as hers.

Then she was undoing his trousers and her hand was slipping inside, pulling down his underpants to grasp the hardness that she was more than ready to experience again. Moving so she was on top, to make the job easier, she was peripherally aware that Yaxley was removing her skirt, revealing her naked body in its entirety, and already he was once again trying to manoeuvre her into a position where he could control the action.

But Hermione was equally determined that she would be the one in charge this time. She managed to release his erection fully and pulled his trousers and pants down over his thighs, gasping as his fingers thrust inside her, his thumb catching at her clit as he pushed. She moved on them as her head bent, her hand gripping his rigid shaft as she ran her tongue around the sensitive head, causing a satisfying cry of desire to emerge from her lover. She sank her lips over the end, moving slowly to take the hardness into her mouth and sucking on it as Yaxley continued to moan, his fingers pushing with a steady rhythm that fed directly into the tingling feeling.

Yaxley groaned with disappointment as Hermione released him from her mouth, her need driving her into selfishness although she knew his discontent wouldn’t last long. Before he could stop her or attempt to take control once more, Hermione pulled away from his fingers and moved to cover the erection she was holding ready. They both cried out as she impaled herself on his hard length, pressing down to take as much of him inside her as she could before rising a little, enjoying the feel of the exquisite movement as she rode him hard. Yaxley moved his pelvis, thrusting up as her body sank to meet him. His hands pushed her upright, facilitating deep penetration that had Hermione yelping. Rapidly overwhelmed by the intense feeling the position created, she leant forward and put her mouth on his, kissing him deeply as they continued to move together.

‘Oh, sweet Circe, you feel fantastic,’ Yaxley growled as Hermione sat up again.

She moved rapidly in short, sharp thrusts, her breathing erupting in shallow pants between grunts. Her heart was pounding so fast she thought it would burst. She was tiring now, and as she moved closer to climax she found it harder to keep moving with the same intensity. Realising this and knowing his moment had come, Yaxley pulled Hermione down on him; then, gripping her tightly, he rolled her over so she was on her back. Without withdrawing, he pulled her legs over his shoulders and thrust hard and fast, his own breathing deepening as Hermione’s quickened, his climax so close now.

Hermione called out his name and the joy in her voice made his heart beat faster. He released her legs and pushed deeply inside her again and again, closing his eyes as he experienced with pleasure her contracting muscles squeezing and milking him. He kissed her, trying to delay the moment of climax, wanting Hermione to go first; but as before, it was going to be a close run thing. Hermione cried out as she thrashed beneath him, still squeezing his erection but then flooding once more as her orgasm erupted. With a growl, Yaxley pushed himself as deep inside her as he could go, his eyes on Hermione’s as he gazed at her with devotion. A deep cry of satisfaction erupted from his throat as he released his seed.

‘Mine,’ he told Hermione in his deep, gravelly voice, and he held her tightly to him, not wanting to ever let her go.

Hermione sighed happily as she held Yaxley just as tightly. That was what she had thought he had said to her in the lift, and at the time it had given her a shiver down her spine. Now the word was both comforting and exciting, and something of a challenge.

‘No, you’re mine,’ she replied, grinning at him as she said it.

‘Aye, you’re right at that, Hermione,’ Yaxley replied gruffly with a deep chuckle. He squeezed her, then bent his head to kiss her again.      

‘Are you sure I can’t convince you to come and work for me?’ he asked.

‘Definitely not,’ Hermione answered. She snuggled closer to him, her arms holding him tightly as her head rested on his chest. ‘I don’t want to sleep with my boss. Anyway, I told you I want to work with magical creatures.’

Yaxley sighed. ‘ _You_ are a magical creature, Hermione,’ he told her fondly. ‘You’ve completely bewitched me.’

‘Is that a bad thing?’ Hermione asked, trying to keep the worry out of her voice. Even now she still wasn’t entirely sure of Yaxley’s allegiances. He had been a Death Eater, after all.

‘Definitely not, love,’ he replied, a broad grin splitting his face. ‘It’s the best thing that’s ever happened . . . to me, at least.’

‘To me, too,’ Hermione admitted.

Her hand reached down to stroke him again, impressed that he was already almost completely recovered. She gave him a small smile.

‘Don’t ever let me go, Yax,’ she whispered.

‘Never!’ Yaxley told her honestly as he bent to kiss her once more.


End file.
